A beautiful wedding is a breath of fresh air and a new beginning to a lifetime of joy. Babies especially a beautiful one like my good friend’s daughter are adorable. One day I think I will need one of each; or maybe just 1 wedding and two watotos.
I have always argued with myself that if my first marriage doesn’t work out, I should accept defeat and stay bachelor for life. I don’t want to be one of those jungu couples who the huzie is on the 3rd marriage and the wifey is a divorcee with three children, none from the previous 4 marriages.
How are you expected to take anyone seriously if they insist on wearing sunglasses at night and their accessories include a du rag, a face towel and a permanent ‘what the fuck are you looking at’ look.
I fikad this joint during the weekend that clearly made me feel like a punk. And never get it twisted 3N can always hold his own and this is in no reference to the bout I won at a refugee camp on our way to Wajir.
Ka ni Mbaya ni Mbaya – lakini not at the place we were and not on this particular night. I have to admit that at this joint, I had resigned at being man handled by at least 99 percent of the dudes and 4.5 percent of the mamas.
A mama who saggs and has two friends (read bitches) around her is no match for 3N. She wins, unless of course anataka kunigawia and you jua I don’t cheza when it comes to SBJ.
It is important in life to know your personel and when it comes to street fighting; There is gangsta, and then there is ghetto gangsta.
Many a men have been rendered breathless by confusing which category they belong to.
And who said it is okay to grab a beach sized towel and bring to the club as your sweat wiping gear? Si you at least kata it in four and save your mother some money?
I tell you Ghetto Fabolous deserves a TV channel by itself.
And speaking of the wrong place, have you ever been in a bathroom and wondered how an international airport would make a men’s bathroom and not see the need to install a urinal? I have and after concluding that they might be idiots, I finished my business and veered to the sink to wash my hands.
As I was washing my hands and minding my own business I thought I saw in the mirror what seemed to be like a woman zooming behind me past the sinks and heading straight for the door. But you know some jungu jamaaz have long hair so I thought, no biggie.
Then two other women came out of stalls with puzzled looks and it finally dawned on my stupid ass; I was in the wrong bathroom. I didn’t even dry my hands, I kimbiad out immediately laughing with fading giggles of the two women in the rear.
Oh, I got to make and consume bloody goat muturas….and nothing is better than a mutura hot off the grill, especially if your have had the privilidge of meeting the goat while it still ate grass. As a maker and consumer I have to warn you though, mutura eating can be tricky.
The thing is that you never know how your intestinal gods will welcome it. I have on many occasions been made a frequent visitor of the men’s bathroom as certain goats are known to carry a blood type that clearly disagrees with 3N’s O type.
Lucky for me this particular goat had good blood and I was in the women’s bathroom only for a Numero Uno.
Finally cheers to the newlyweds and good luck in their marriage.